I was locked in the adjacent confinement room.
The more I thought about it, the more I felt Levi did it on purpose.
The Night Bar had always been operating legally and had never been raided by the police before, but tonight it was.
And it was Levi who led the raid himself.
What a coincidence!
After six hours of confinement, the iron door finally opened.
Levi stepped in.
He had changed out of his police uniform and into his usual black trousers and white shirt, losing the intimidating seriousness but gaining an indescribable sophistication.
He looked at me. "Sober now?"
I ignored him.
"Did you have fun with the male model?"
I glared at him, annoyed. "Levi, if you have the guts, lock me up for another six hours. What's the point of asking these pointless questions?"
"Of course, it matters," he announced seriously, "It determines whether or not I'll bail you out as a family member today."
"..."
Was he threatening me?
Well, he succeeded!
My expression turned panicked as I grabbed his arm and pleaded, "Mr. Davis, I didn't mess around with the male model..."
Levi raised an eyebrow at me. "What did you call me, Ms. Jones?"
"Honey..."
Compared to the unfounded imprisonment, what did face or dignity matter?